Monday, November 24, 2008

Sorry ... how did you spell your name again?

The National Post's Jonathan Kay gets schooled by his commenters.AFTERSNARK: One has to wonder why Kay thinks this bit is so impressive:

But there are drawbacks to combining spicy political reporting with independent blogging: People get mad, and sometimes they sue you. And unlike folks like me, Janke doesn't have a company-paid cadre of lawyers to back him up. His legal costs come out of his own pocket.

This was the case when a disgruntled former MP flew off the handle recently, and began suing everyone who'd reported on his troubles — including Janke. The professional reporters who were sued didn't break a sweat — they just flipped the legalese to the people who handle this sort of thing in the back office. But not a blogger like Janke, for whom the money for defence counsel comes out of the same bank account used to pay for groceries and kids' clothes.

And one wonders what we should think of someone who, with no legal support system in place, puts his family's financial well-being at risk. I'm sorry ... that isn't noble or laudable, it's totally fucking stupid and irresponsible.

If Janke wants to play Boy Detective and write ignorant, malicious crap for which he can be sued (justifiably or not), then let him suffer the consequences. There's nothing noble in playing investigative reporter, then whining for financial help when your idiocy comes back to bite you in the ass.

If Janke wants to play reporter, let him do it on his own dime. I mean, is it just me or has the entire right-wing Canadian blogosphere turned into a panhandle-fest lately? God, what a bunch of pants-pissing whiners.

Sorry, Dawg, but I don't buy the analogy. Janke's entire shtick is that he brags constantly about pushing the envelope. And if someone does that long enough, they're going to get fucked. And if someone does that with no legal backing or financial infrastructure for support, then they deserve what they get.

It's hypocritical for Janke to yammer on endlessly about what kind of kick-ass detective he is, only to go whining for help when someone finally has enough of his big mouth.

I can help Mark Francis and tell Steve Janke to go fuck himself without feeling a single pang of hypocrisy.